


Puzzles

by lunarlychallenged



Category: Bandstand - Oberacker/Oberacker & Taylor
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-26 00:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15651675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarlychallenged/pseuds/lunarlychallenged
Summary: Johnny had trouble remembering things, but it wasn't so bad with you there to remind him.





	Puzzles

It wasn’t that you had been happy when all of the men were off at war. You hadn’t been - you had family to worry about, friends with lives on the line. You were happy for the ones who came home, and you were sad about the ones that did not.

The problem was that the men came home, and it didn’t get easier. People came home, and it was like the puzzle pieces of their lives had changed so they wouldn’t fit anymore. Girlfriends had moved on. Jobs had been taken. 

The puzzles had changed, but people were angry when the men were just as different as everything else.

You didn’t feel like you had changed. You were working the same waitress job, in the same restaurant, in the same city. You were still unmarried, and it wasn’t because you had a beau in the military. Everybody fell apart around you, and you could do nothing but wipe tables and smile as you threw out food that was still perfectly good.

It was interesting to see who came back to the diner after the war. 

Andrew had lived down the street from you since - always, really. You remembered him sharing his sandwich with you a few times during the years when nobody had much to share. Since coming home, you’d heard, he frequently got in trouble for hiding food. In his bedroom, behind furniture, in his car. His parents didn’t understand his need to hoard food when they always had enough, but you sometimes slipped him a little extra when he came to eat. He could never meet your eyes after, but he never turned it away.

Your uncle lost his left leg. He got a decent prosthetic, but could hardly walk on it.

Johnny Simpson came back, and he was the one that made you the saddest of all. He looked as perfect as ever, but his insides were more jumbled.

“Johnny,” you had grinned when he first came back. “Welcome home.”

He smiled back, but panic flickered for a second. “Oh! Yeah, thanks.” His eyebrows dipped while he looked at you.

Realization dawned in you, and you took a step back. “Y/N.”

“Yeah,” he stumbled, “yeah, I know, I just needed a second. Four years, you know.”

“Right. Right. So, what can I get you?” He had always ordered the same thing, but this wasn’t the same man. This wasn’t one of the other soldiers, coming back and needing to readjust. This was somebody coming back and rebuilding.

Since then, it had become clear how many puzzle pieces he was missing. He found them, sometimes, but would lose others. They were all there, and you knew it, but sometimes he got a little jumbled. That was okay. Sometimes, when he had a different server, you would see them getting annoyed by the facts and memories he had lost. After a while, Johnny would be shuffled to your section every time he came in.

 

 

“Which one is an accountant?” Johnny sipped at the last of his coffee while pouring over the HELP WANTED section of the paper. 

“Something with money,” you said. You’d never thought much about what they did; it had always seemed too boring to pay attention to. “Making sure businesses are doing alright financially, I think.”

He smiled to himself, circling the ad. “I could do that.”

“For sure.”

“Y/N?” He looked up at you, taking off his hat to rest it on the table.

You shoved the pad and pencil in your apron pocket. “Yes?”

“Were you always my server before?”

“Sometimes.” Like most customers, he bounced around the diner. You remembered him flirting with waitresses and women around him. You remembered the girls you worked with talking about him, saying that he would be an awfully good man to marry. Smart, capable, handsome. Everything you could hope for. “Why?”

“Just curious. You always have me, these days. Right?” He glanced over at the other servers, brow furrowing as he considered them. “Yes, I think it’s always you.”

“It is,” you agreed. “You’re my favorite customer, so they give me to you.”

His lips curled into a dubious smile. “That so?”

“That’s the truth of it.” He was your favorite. You liked the notes he wrote on napkins. You liked that talked to you like a friend instead of like an afterthought. “If you wanted somebody else, that’d be alright too.”

“No,” he said firmly. “No, you’re my favorite too. Wish me luck on the job search?”

“Of course,” you said. “Come by after the interviews to tell me about them?”

“Of course.”

 

 

“I have a show next week,” Johnny said proudly. “I joined a band for that contest.”

You grinned. “That’s amazing! Look at you, practically famous already.”

He spread the dollop of whipped cream across the surface of his pie, aiming for a perfectly even layer. “Practically. This time a year from now, we’ll be in the movies.”

“Amazing,” you said again. Really, really amazing. Johnny Simpson, on the drums again. Even now, he moved rhythmically. You could practically see the music in the dip of his fork, the flit of his eyes, the way he twirled the knife in his free hand. “Are the other musicians talents?”

He paused, doubt setting in. “They’re - I think so. There’s - the bassist is - Jesus.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be amazing. I can’t wait to see you in the movies,” you said smoothly. “Soon, you’ll be rich enough to eat at nice restaurants. Ones with bathrooms that always work.”

“I like it here,” he said. He beamed the words. “I always remember this place.”

“Well, you always came here before. You loved the food, I think. The food, and the waitresses. I suppose it makes sense that you have those memories.”

“I’m not remembering before,” he said immediately. Then, slow as molasses, “I’m not remembering all of the waitresses, either.” His lips quirked into a smile on ‘all.’

Happiness. Blinding, unmistakable happiness cut through you like glass.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No,” he said slowly. “Actually, miss?”

Your lips quirked. It wasn’t that he didn’t know your name right now. When he called you miss, it was with a winning dip of the chin and a smile that rose like a symphony. “Yes?”

“You should come. To the show, I mean. That’d be swell.”

He wrote the address and his phone number on a napkin, glancing at the paper he carried around to remind himself of the address. You put it in your apron, promising to attend. When you got home, you pinned the paper on your fridge. You never took it down.

 

 

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and Johnny hadn’t come for lunch. He never missed Wednesdays, though some of the other days were a little iffier. It shouldn’t have bothered you; people come and go in restaurants. Maybe he had found a job, or had a family engagement. Maybe there was nothing wrong at all, and you were being paranoid and overstepping your bounds. 

You ignored all of the maybes and called him when you got home.

The phone rang, on and on, until you started to think that maybe you should just hang up. Finally, when you were feeling awfully foolish, somebody picked up.

“Jimmy, I swear to God, when I told you I couldn’t make practice -”

“No, Johnny,” you cut in. “It’s Y/N, from the diner?” When he didn’t say anything, you continued with a nervous laugh. “There’s this diner you usually go to on Wednesday, and I’m usually your server.”

“No, Y/N, I remember you,” he said. You believed him. “I know who you are. Is everything okay?”

“What? Yes, of course. You didn’t come in today, and I was worried that something was wrong on your end.”

You heard him huff something between a laugh and a sigh. “Oh. Geez. Yeah, I haven’t been feeling well today.”

“Are you sick?” You considered what you had on hand that a sick person might like. You could make soup, or grilled cheese. 

“Not sick, no. When the Jeep flipped - three times, can you believe it? - I had three back surgeries. They couldn’t fix the pain, not all of it, and today has not been a great day.”

You ran a hand through your hair, stricken. “Oh, and I made you get up to answer the phone.”

“Anything for you, miss.”

You smile, wrapping the cord around your finger. “I’m going to bring food by your house tonight.”

“No,” he said hurriedly. “There’s no need for that. I’m alright, really.”

“Pie,” you decided. “Pie, and sandwiches. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t have to,” he said, but he sounded like he was smiling. You could almost see him tapping his fingers at the edge of his jaw, fast and cheerful.

“If I told you that I wanted to,” you said, “would you let me?”

After a pause, he told you his address. “But only if you want to.”

“I really, really want to.”

 

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You held the pencil above your notepad, ready to write whenever he was ready. He had never looked this unhappy to forget something, and you weren’t sure what to do. “If you forgot your wallet, I can spot you a few dollars.”

“I just - we knew each other before.”

“We did.” Only as server and customer. Only as a waitress and a genius. The two of you had never been something, but you had known him. 

“I was more, before.” He looked up at you, and you thought that his eyes were too bright. 

“That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” you snorted.

“Last week, I had to ask you if I liked pie.”

“Some people don’t. It’s okay to ask.” You slid into the opposite side of the booth, ignoring the stares from the other servers. “Johnny, you can always ask about what you don’t remember. You aren’t less of a person because you forget things sometimes.”

“That’s all people are! What we remember is what we are,” he said. “If I forget everything, what does that make me?”

“Smart,” you said immediately. “So, so smart. Handsome. You love pie, even if you forget sometimes. You like clothes with loud patterns; you always have. You smile more when it snows than when it doesn’t.”

His lips quirked up, and he pointed to the menu to order the same thing he always did.

You wrote it down, if only for the sake of appearances, but paused before leaving. “Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

“I remember things about you. I remember who you are. You can ask.”

His eyes clung to you for the rest of his lunch. He didn’t say much, aside from regular pleasantries, but his eyes were there.

 

 

You were surprised to hear Johnny’s voice when you answered the phone, but pleasantly so. Very, very pleasantly surprised.

“We’re going to New York,” he said with immeasurable pride. “We just bought the tickets. First class, can you believe it?”

You leaned against the counter. “That’s incredible. I - we knew you’d make it.”

“I - We wouldn’t have made it without you.”

You grinned, leaning your head back against a cabinet. “When do you go?”

“Next week.”

“When will you come home?”

There was a pause. “I’m not sure. That depends on how we do, I suppose.”

“Oh,” you said. “I guess you might miss a few days at the diner, huh?”

“I might. What do you want me to bring back for you?”

“Oh,” you said again. “Johnny, you don’t have to bring -”

“Y/N,” he cut in. “I’m going to bring you something back from the city. Is there anything specific you want me to bring?”

“No,” you sighed. “Whatever you want. You will come home, though, right?”

“Of course.” He sounded surprised, like it would never have occurred to him not to come back.

“Good,” you said. “That’s good. I’ll be waiting for you, you know.”

“I do tip well,” he said lightly.

“Not for tips, Johnny.”

He said nothing, but you heard the smile in the way he breathed. You heard the tapping of his pointer finger against his end of the phone. It stuttered for a second while you spoke, but sped into something delightful.

“I’ll see you when I get back,” he finally said. “Listen for us on the radio.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. Goodbye.”

 

 

The next time Johnny came into the diner, all eyes were on him. He wasn’t the broken man for the war anymore, not to them. He was the drummer from the Donny Nova Band. He was a hero, from the war and from home. All eyes were on him, but he only had eyes for you.

“Y/N,” he said. With a quirk of the lips, “miss.”

“Johnny Simpson,” you said. You put a hand over your chest, mock surprised. “As I live and breathe.”

He strode over, not bothering to sit in a booth. “Well, I won’t be in any movies.”

“You aren’t good looking enough for movies,” you grinned. “You’re a radio man, through and through.”

“You’ve always liked looking at me,” he said. 

“I do,” you said. You could hardly look away now. He wore a bright, plaid suit. “Can I get you anything?” The words were an afterthought, but you didn’t need your manager getting on you about professionalism.

He laughed. “Actually, I brought something for you this time.”

“Oh! My present from New York.”

“Not exactly,” he hedged. He pulled paper out of his suit pocket. 

“A train ticket?” You ran your fingers along the edge, confused. “What’s this for?”

“We’re going on tour. The band, I mean.” He took off his hat, holding it to his chest. “I want you to come with me.”

Your jaw dropped. One of the other waitresses dropped the tray she was carrying.

Johnny’s face went tight with uncertainty. “I can’t - I don’t remember if we ever talked about feelings, but I have them. Y/N, I love this band, and I love making music, and I really love you. I don’t want to give up any of those things, and if you marry me, I won’t have to.”

“You want to marry me,” you said. Nobody ever had. You had never wanted to marry anybody else, either. Johnny, though -

“I do,” he said earnestly. “I know that it’s fast.”

“Not fast enough,” you said with a bewildered laugh. “I’d have married you weeks ago. Months, even.”

“Is that a yes?” He was crushing his hat, but he didn’t seem to care. 

You nodded, hard and fast. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Of course I will.”

Johnny never forgot. It wasn’t the ring, or the fact that you slept next to him every night. Nobody knew why he remembered his wife better than anything else, but even when everything else got jumbled up, you were never one of his questions.


End file.
